


Dating For Dummies

by nickelmd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Pining, but ignores most of it, takes place in season 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelmd/pseuds/nickelmd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cas becomes human, he goes to stay with Dean and Sam at the Bunker. Dean wants to help, but Cas seems determined to keep him at arms length. Sam tries not to get involved. A "Hang in There Kitty" t-shirt and the Impala are important supporting characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dating For Dummies

**Author's Note:**

> "Dating For Dummies," as a book, does make an appearance, but no one actually tries to use the advice contained therein. That was the story I started to write, but it went a different direction before I could stop it.

Cas has been living at the bunker for going on two weeks. He still moves around the bunker like he thinks he’s an unwelcome house guest and Dean doesn’t know how to make him understand that the bunker is his home, permanently, if he wants it. Dean’s time in the bunker is spent in restless irritation, watching Cas adjust to humanity. His hands are itching to do something productive, to be useful, but when he offers, nine times out of ten, Cas fixes him with his steely gaze and says, “I’m not a child, Dean,” or something equally ridiculous. Because Dean obviously knows he’s not a child, but, Jesus Christ, it’s not illegal to get help learning to tie a tie or make scrambled eggs. 

Dean knows he’s not at his finest, alternately running around the bunker slamming doors, glaring at Cas, or hovering over him anxiously while he learns to sort laundry. The thing is, if Cas would just tell him what he needs, Dean would do it. Trying to guess is proving disastrous, and Dean is half afraid Cas is going to leave the bunker just to avoid Dean’s unwanted solicitousness. He tells himself, for the hundredth time, to just calm down and let Cas be, and then Cas walks into the kitchen.

He shuffles in, yawning and rubbing his hand through his hair, wearing a pair of Dean’s pajama bottoms and a ‘Hang In There Kitty’ t-shirt he insisted they buy at the thrift store, even though it’s a woman’s shirt and clearly a size too small. He just said it “resonated with him” and wouldn’t budge. Thankfully Dean hasn’t had to try to talk him out of wearing it outside...yet. The shirt doesn’t leave much to the imagination, the definition of Cas’ shoulders and chest like a map through the thin fabric. Dean can’t help that his eyes slide over the small sliver of tanned skin showing between the shirt and the low slung pants, to the dark, sparse patch of hair clearly visible, but disappearing under the well worn flannel, before they dart up to Cas’ face.

Dean stands up and moves toward the refrigerator. “Hey, Cas. Want some breakfast?” The words rush out before he can stop them, “I mean, I...uh...I know you can make it yourself, but, you know, I was just going to make something for myself anyway, so, um, it’s no problem. Maybe some eggs or...pancakes?”

Cas is still standing just inside the door to the kitchen, looking at Dean with an odd expression, his hair standing on end, like he slept running his fingers through it all night. Dean fights the urge to approach him and try to smooth it down, and not just because he knows the attempt would be futile, but because he knows, no matter how right the impulse feels, you don’t just go around running your fingers through your best friend’s hair, especially when they’ve made it pretty clear that you’re one step away from smothering them.

There’s a stillness hanging between them, while Cas seems to weigh the offer more seriously than Dean thinks a hot breakfast deserves. 

“I think I’d like some scrambled eggs, thank you,” Cas finally says, nodding a bit, as if to himself.

He didn’t realize he had been bracing for rejection until he relaxes into Cas’ acceptance. “Sure thing, buddy. Scrambled eggs coming up. Nice and fluffy, just how you like ‘em.” Dean winks saucily, irrationally buoyed by Cas letting him take care of him, even in this small way. He grabs a pan and turns to the stove, whistling quietly.

\--

Now that Dean’s attention is turned away from him Cas looks down at himself. It’s something new to think about what he’s wearing at all, much less to sort out what’s appropriate. Dean was quite clear when they purchased it that his t-shirt was not appropriate, but Cas thought it was the sentiment Dean disapproved of, or maybe the cuteness of the kitten. Cas had ignored him. The cotton was soft and he’d instantly empathized with the overwhelmed kitten. He wears it most nights to remind himself that he can adapt. Hang in there, indeed. 

The way Dean’s eyes had traveled over the shirt, though, makes him wonder if it isn’t inappropriate for other reasons. Both Dean and Sam had told him it was too small, Dean a little angrily and Sam with a laugh, but it went on easily and didn’t feel uncomfortable. Now though, he notices that his nipples are clearly pressed through the fabric and the edge doesn’t reach his pants. He absently wonders where this fits on the sliding scale of mistakes he’s making as a human. Dean’s eyes had widened, but he hadn’t said anything about it, so maybe it’s not so bad. If Cas weren’t exceptionally practical he might pretend he wasn’t hoarding the feeling of Dean’s eyes traveling over his body. Dean may have been assessing Cas’ inability to behave like a normal human being, but he could still feel it like a physical thing. 

These last two weeks he’s fallen into a steady orbit around Dean. The effort required to maintain his physical distance has been exhausting. When Dean had offered to show him how to shave ‘properly,’ he’d nearly pushed Dean out of the bathroom and slammed the door on him. He’s not entirely sure why he can’t let himself be drawn into Dean’s personal space, he simply knows it feels too big and too dangerous.

Cas watches Dean work. He’s whistling happily, the muscles in his shoulders rippling visibly through his shirt as he stirs and pushes the eggs around in the pan. Cas represses the desire to stand behind Dean, press against him, to take comfort in the steady, confident movements, to try to absorb, through osmosis, how to be an excellent human.

He’s startled out of his thoughts when Sam clears his throat. Cas looks up and sees Sam’s eyes dart between Dean and himself with an apprehensive look. Cas finds himself, more often than not, baffled by Sam’s attention. Sam always looks at him like he’s a puzzle, like he sees more than an inept human, but Cas doesn’t know what it is he’s seeing. Dean turns around, “Hey, Sammy. Want some eggs?”

Sam seems to relax a little. He’s dressed in his running clothes and his hair is damp from sweat. He’s already been out of the bunker on a run. Cas thinks, now that he’s in a position to judge these things, that Sam is a morning person in a way that he will never be. 

“No thanks, man. I already ate before my run.”

Dean laughs, “Yogurt and granola is, like, breakfast appetizer. You need some real food now. Look at Cas. He knows how to eat.”

Cas preens under the approving glance Dean throws him, but Sam just shrugs and grabs an apple from the bowl on the table, taking a bite. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it.” He walks by Cas, that same apprehensive look on his face, pressing his hand onto Cas’ shoulder briefly, in support or warning, he can’t tell, nor does he know why he would need either.

In the evening Cas walks into the garage to find Dean obscured under the Impala, his feet the only part of him visible. Music blares loudly, echoing in the cavernous room. Dean must hear Cas, or see his feet walking by, because he rolls out, his legs emerging, then his torso, his tight black t-shirt riding up, exposing the band of Dean’s boxers, as well as a good bit of abs. He can’t pull his eyes away from the patch of skin until Dean is fully out from underneath the car, standing up and wiping his hands on a rag, then passing the back of his hand still holding a wrench over his brow. He leaves a trail of grease on his forehead. Dean must have adjusted his shirt when he stood up, because there isn’t even a hint of skin visible now, but Cas’s eyes flick back over his chest and the way the worn t-shirt pulls tightly across Dean’s shoulders. He feels warm all over and suffused with a familiar feeling he’s been unable to define, but the name of which pops, finally, with dismal certainty into his brain unbidden: longing.

“Do you need something, Cas?” Dean asks carefully.

Cas is suddenly, distressingly sure Dean can see everything going through his mind. He does the only thing he can think of, he turns and walks out without answering. He doesn’t look back when he hears Dean call after him, “Cas, man, wait…” nor does he turn when he hears Dean mutter, “God damn it.” He distantly hears the sound of metal clanging across concrete, but he still doesn’t turn.

Cas doesn’t know much about dealing with human emotions, but he has discovered that sometimes, when he is feeling overwhelmed, physical exertion can be helpful. More than once he’s run his body until his mind was clear and there was nothing left but to fall into bed and, hopefully, the sweet oblivion of a dreamless sleep. So he isn’t surprised when he ends up in the bunker gym, methodically working his way through every piece of equipment until his arms and legs are shaking, but his mind is quiet.

The temptation to head straight to bed is strong, but he knows he’ll regret ruining his sheets with perspiration in the morning, so he heads to the showers. The hot water runs over his aching body, providing a physical comfort he finds nowhere else. When he’s sufficiently clean he dries off, wrapping a towel around his waist. Through the thick walls he can hear the sound of Dean and Sam arguing. He can’t make out the words and he doesn’t try. If Dean is ready to chuck him out for crimes against human decency, he’ll find out in the morning.

Each night, before he goes to sleep, Cas reviews his day, cataloging what he’s learned, looking for mistakes and thinking about how to ‘hang in there.’ Lying in bed now, though, he just wants to pretend today didn’t happen. He sighs deeply, telling himself he’s not a coward and begins his ritual as he would any other night. 

He thinks about the morning, when the day had seemed so promising, about how Dean had looked at him and how it had felt. He immediately thinks of how he felt when his attention had been drawn to Dean’s body. He can almost imagine that’s how Dean felt looking at him. That thought sends heat ricocheting through his body, collecting low in his stomach. Now that the connection’s been made it seems ridiculous to pretend it has ever been otherwise. Of course he loves Dean, of course he wants Dean. How could he not? What chance has he ever had to escape the magnetic pull of Dean Winchester? 

Here, alone in his room, he can imagine whatever he wants. He can imagine that all this time Dean’s been trying to tell him he loves him, by cooking for him, teaching him to drive, the gentle way he doesn’t press when Cas is overwhelmed. He can imagine every task said “I love you” rather than “I feel responsible for you.” 

He imagines his hands on Dean’s shoulders, running up and down his arms, cupping his face and kissing him. He doesn’t have to feel bad about it. It’s just in his imagination. He feels too hot in his towel, so he throws it to the side. He’s experimented with masturbation, of course, since he’s become human, but it didn’t feel like this. When he touches himself, now, thinking of Dean, everything feels hotter and brighter, inevitable rather than obligatory. The whole experience is so novel it’s almost over before it begins and he’s left shaking and exhausted. He does, indeed, fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

\---

Sam is a pain in his ass in the way that little brothers often are, but also in the way that he’s usually right about things Dean would rather he not be right about. Sam’s been careful in the bunker since Cas came to stay, giving both of them a wide berth and leaving most of the ‘dealing with Cas’ humanity’ stuff up to Dean. Dean’s been waiting for the shoe to drop and Sam to insist they have a talk about his feelings, but he hasn’t done it. Dean sees him, sometimes, watching him quietly, or more often, watching Cas like he’s trying to figure something out. Whatever Sam’s looking for he hasn’t let Dean in on it.

Last night, though, he’d found Dean fuming in the garage, a hefty pile of tools scattered around the ground where Dean had hurled them. “What the hell, Dean?”

“Don’t start on me, Sammy.”

“Is this about Cas?” 

“What the hell is wrong with him, man. I mean, I thought it was better today. He let me make him breakfast. He didn’t even bitch about it. Then he walks in here and as soon as I say boo, he turns around and walks out the door without even a, ‘Hello, Dean.’ Jesus Christ, Sammy, what the hell could I have done wrong this time?”

“Did you ever think, maybe, he’s just having a hard time adjusting to being human?”

That’s when he’d lost it, “God damn it, do you think I ever think of anything else? I go to bed thinking about what he needs and I wake up with a million ways to help, but he doesn’t want me to do anything!”

“Dean. Have you asked him what he needs?”

“What? I mean, not exactly. I don’t want to...he doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about it. What if h--”

Sam threw his hands in the air and interrupted, shouting, “Stop. Right now. Just stop it. Either you ask Cas what he needs, or you stop bitching that he won’t let you help. I’m tired of walking around this place on eggshells while the two of you figure this shit out.”

If Sammy was going to shout, so was he. “Why is this my shit to figure out? Your Cas’ friend too, don’t tell me you’re not, but you walk around here like you’re above this.”

That had gotten Sam’s attention. The anger on his face drained away, replaced with something that looked too much like pity for Dean’s taste. “Dean, I’m not leaving this to you because I’m ‘above it’, but if you don’t know why I’m leaving it up to you and Cas, then I don’t know how to tell you.” And then he’d left Dean standing, speechless, next to an empty tool box.

Dean had gone to bed furious, but woken up determined ask Cas what he needed. He was counting on Cas agreeing to let him make breakfast again, but though Dean had hung out in the kitchen for several hours, Cas had never wandered through. The first time he sees him for the day he’s already dressed and looks as if he’s about to go out. 

“Hey, Cas, wait up,” he calls as casually as he can. Cas freezes and turns slowly to look at Dean. The same skittishness from last night is in his look, but at least this time he responds.

“Yes, Dean. Can I help you?” he asks, his voice strangely formal.

The tone pulls him up short, and he stops a few feet away, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck as the tries to figure out how he’s supposed to play this. Talking about feelings isn’t really in his wheelhouse. He can feel his ears turning red. “Um, I don’t know. Where are you headed?”

“I was going to go to the store. I think I need, that is, I think you were right. I think I need some better fitting shirts.”

Dean wants to bury himself in a hole. Did Cas actually catch Dean checking him out? Is that why he’s been avoiding him? His mortification is now complete. Not only can he not figure out how to be helpful, he’s actively making Cas uncomfortable. Why Sam thinks he is qualified to deal with this, he’ll never know. His mouth opens and closes a few times trying to figure out how to continue, but decides the best way to proceed is to ignore the “Hang In There Kitty” incident entirely. 

“Great, I could really use some, um, stuff too. Come on, I’ll drive.” And he brushes past Cas, not giving him any chance to refuse his offer.

He makes it out to the Impala first. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat with the engine running before Cas opens the passenger door. He looks over at Cas and smiles. This was an awesome idea. Everything’s better inside Baby.

In spite of being bolstered by the thought of having this conversation in the Impala, he waits. He goes through the motions of shopping, watching Cas pick out two new t-shirts. They’re a more traditional fit, but Dean wouldn’t say they fit better. When Cas is finished he looks at Dean expectantly. Dean smiles back. Cas tilts his head and continues to stare. The silence stretches until Cas finally says, “Don’t you need to...’get some stuff’?”

Shit. “Uh, you know what, I kinda, nah, I can get it later. Let’s just head home.”

Cas does a fantastic impression of Sam’s bitchface #23 before heading to check out.

Dean is tense on the drive home. One hand is on the steering wheel, but the other is rubbing restlessly against thigh. He tries to focus on the feel of Baby’s engine rumbling underneath him, but each time he glances over at Cas he has to start from square one. He pulls up in front of the bunker. Cas starts to open the door, but Dean reaches out, grabbing his wrist, “Wait.”

Cas looks down at his wrist pinioned in Dean’s grasp. His eyes follow a path up Dean’s arm, over his shoulder and up to his face. He looks mildly affronted, or maybe angry, so Dean tacks on, “Please. I just, I have something I want to tell...ask, well, ask and tell you.” Dean drops his wrist and leans back against the seat. He drags his hand down over his face waiting to see if Cas is going to comply before he begins.

Cas doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t get out of the car. Dean chances a look. He looks calm, but wary. At least he doesn’t look angry. Dean can work with that.

“Look, Cas. I know these last couple weeks here, at the bunker, I know they’ve been, uh, rough. But, I--I just want you to know I think you’re doing great, you know. Real, um, A+ humanity, right? But, like I said, I know you’re going through something. Something I can’t really understand. I get that, I do. But, I--I want to help. I mean, if you want it. Or if you need it. I know you can, uh, do it on your own or whatever, but you don’t have to. If, if you don’t want to. I’m here and Sam, obviously, Sam is here for you too. So, just, like, tell me, ok, tell me what you need and I’ll, I’ll do my best, man.” 

Dean stops abruptly, feeling 50 shades of stupid, but when he looks at Cas it seems worth it. His face is motionless, but softer than it was. His expression is hard to read, but Dean’s gotten pretty good at translating Castiel into English and he thinks he could say he looks more relaxed than he’s seen him since he became human. Then he smiles, it’s small but genuine, and Dean’s heart does an undignified skip in his chest.

“Thank you, Dean,” is all Cas replies, and Dean was maybe kind of hoping for some actual information on what he could do, but this is good too. It’s a start.

“I mean it, Cas. You can tell me anything. You can ask me anything. I’m here.”

“I know. I believe you,” Cas says solemnly before turning and opening his door. 

Cas gets out of the car, but waits for Dean to join him before they go into the bunker together. They stand awkwardly for a few minutes in the entryway. Cas clears his throat nervously. Dean looks up from where he was studying the floor tiles.

“Thank you for driving me to the store. And, for what you said. I’m going to go put my shirts away. And then I’m going to think...about what you said, about what I need. I’m, Dean, I want you to know I’m happy here with you...and Sam. You are helping me, just by letting me stay here. This is...I don’t know if I’ve made this clear, but this is where I want to be. Here. With you, and with Sam.” He shifts uncomfortably, “I don’t think I’ve thought about what I need. I’ve been so focused on not being a burden. So, I’m going to think about it, and when I know I’ll tell you.”

“Ok, Cas. That’s...that’s good. I’ll see you for dinner, right?”

“Of course.”

Dean nods once and watches as Cas walks toward his room.

\----

Sam’s searching for a box he’s seen somewhere in the bunker. It had a very particular symbol on it. It kind of looked like an abstract ox and a nonagon had a love child, and he’s just come upon a book that might be mentioning the same symbol. The problem is, he can’t remember exactly where he was when he saw it, so now he’s wandering around storeroom after storeroom trying to find it.

On the third try he opens the door and nearly jumps out of his skin when he finds Cas, sitting on the floor hunched over a book, his eyes wide as saucers on Sam. “Cas, what ar--” he cuts off as Cas slams the book shut with a bang. “Uh,” Sam walks forward, eyes following Cas’ hands as he slips the book behind his back, “I was just looking for something I,--”

“Me too.” Cas replies quickly, “I was looking...in here...as well.”

Sam opens his mouth to reply, but closes it again, trying to think through an appropriate response. Something is up. That much is obvious. Cas is obviously lying. Cas has only been back in the bunker for a little while. He and Dean are still working out how much they need to tread lightly around him as he adjusts to being human. That’s meant an odd mix of fussing over him and completely ignoring things from Dean, and Sam has been trying to let Dean handle it, but based on their fight the other day, maybe he needs to get more involved.

“Is there anything you need to talk about, Cas? I mean, is that book...do you need help figuring human stuff out?”

Cas sighs dramatically and stands up. Throwing the book on the table, “No, it’s fine, I don’t wish to talk about it. Do you need help finding this item you came looking for?”

Sam can’t help that his eyes slide over to the book on the table, Dating for Dummies, nor can he help the double take he does, eyes darting quickly from the book to Cas and back to the book, “Cas, is that...are you...going on a,” the word gets stuck, so that he has to clear his throat to finish, “date?”

“I said I don’t wish to discuss it.” Cas stands unnaturally still sometimes, usually when he’s uncomfortable or unsure how to proceed. 

“It’s just, I think, you know, that is something you should probably talk to Dean...or me...about, don’t you think?” Sam knows he shouldn’t be angry, but he feels a little stab of protectiveness as he tries to imagine Dean finding out Cas has gone out on a date without even telling him. Still, Cas’ response shocks him.

“Sam, please, please do not tell Dean,” Cas looks panicked, biting his lip and fidgeting uncharacteristically. 

“You know Dean would help you with anything you asked him to, right? He’s a wreck trying to figure out what you need help with and what you don’t. You could make his life a lot easier by just telling him. Or me. I mean, we both want to help.”

“Dean has been very kind, and we’ve, we’ve recently discussed how to...procede...with me, that is, I’m trying to understand, what it is I need.” Sam can’t help but notice how Cas’ ears go pink at the tips as he rushes to add, “But this is not related, to Dean I mean, it’s just that I just saw the book and was curious. I’m not ‘planning’ anything.”

Sam is surprised to realized what a relief that is, “Uh. Ok, man, I mean, dating, that’s normal, right? It’s ok if you want to, uh, you know, date or whatever, I just, um, you know, Dean and I, we can help. We want to help. That’s all.”

“Yes, Sam. I know. I do appreciate it, but please don’t trouble yourself about this particular issue. It’s nothing.” 

“Right, ok. Sure.” Sam latches on to the easiest way to change the subject he can think of, pushing thoughts of what this particular development means for whatever is going on, or not going on, between Cas and his brother out of his mind “So, what do you know about this symbol?”

Things are better after that. Dean and Cas are still circling each other, but they're not fighting anymore. Cas lets Dean take care of some things, he lets Dean teach him others, and Dean stops hovering (mostly) when Cas is trying something new.

One night Sam goes to bed early, leaving Cas and Dean watching Dr. Sexy re-runs. In the morning he finds them both asleep where he left them, Dean's head thrown back, his right arm slung over the back of the couch and Cas' head nestled on his chest, mouth open, face relaxed in sleep.

He wants to laugh, but what he feels instead is a pang of sadness, its source inexplicable, yet staggeringly obvious. A feeling he's not sure he entirely understands, but that he understands perfectly. He leaves the bunker as quietly as he can, afraid that if he's there when they wake up, his presence will ruin this stolen moment of peace. He knows they love each other, sometimes he’s pretty sure they’re in love with each other, but he doesn’t have any idea if either of them knows what that means. He runs longer than normal that morning, unsure if he wishes he knew more about his brother's tangled relationship with Cas or less.

\---

Dean wakes up with a crick in his neck, a weight on his chest and something tickling his chin. He can immediately identify why his neck is sore as he lifts it up from an unusual angle. Turns out the weight is Cas' head and the tickle his hair. He tries to kickstart his brain to remember what he was doing last night. He heaves a sigh that moves Cas' head gently up and down. He remembers falling asleep next to Cas on the couch. Nothing bad, nothing crazy, just two friends falling asleep watching tv. Cas had been sitting close, he must have leaned over in his sleep. 

He doesn't know what to do now. He doesn't want to wake Cas, because the guy deserves to sleep and he looks weirdly comfortable, despite the awkward angle. He tries to get a good look at Cas' face, which is difficult to do without jostling him. He indulges in a brief fantasy where he imagines what it would be like to wake up with Cas draped over him for other reasons, before he drops it to think about what Cas needs.

Cas needs something more. Becoming human has obviously been hard on him. As hard as Dean is working to be everything he needs, he knows Cas has to figure out stuff for himself, including how to find what he needs for himself. Cas had said he's happy here. He said it's where he wants to be, but what if that's because he just doesn't know what else there is? Sure, he said they had a "profound bond" or whatever, but maybe Cas needs friends outside of him and Sam. Maybe he needs someone who could be more. 

Dean could do that, if he had to. He could let him go, if it meant he'd be happy. Sooner or later Cas will tell him what he needs, he promised, and when he does, Dean will be ready. He looks down at the top of Cas' head, his hair a stormy mess. He can't resist reaching out to touch it, running his fingers gently through the mess, not fixing it, not smoothing it down, just enjoying the feeling, until Cas starts to stir and Dean pulls his hand away, arm returning quietly to the safety of the couch-back.

\----

When he wakes up, the first thing Cas notices is that he was drooling in his sleep. When he lifts his head there's a small damp spot under his face. He puts his hand near it to push himself up and that's when he realizes he's not where he thinks he is and his hand is on Dean's chest. If he weren't so sleepy he might have jumped up, but he's the kind of happy tired that comes with a good night’s sleep, the kind he has little experience with, so he just sort of freezes and tilts his head up at Dean, a little trepidatious, but in a strangely languid way.

Dean is smirking down at him, looking unruffled at being caught in such an incriminating position. "Uh...sorry...about the drool," Cas says. He's learned enough about human behavior that he knows he should feel awkward, that he should expect Dean to be uncomfortable, maybe even angry, but Dean just looks peaceful with a side of cocky and Cas is unable to keep the situation-inappropriate smile off his face.

"It's ok," Dean replies and at the confusion on Cas' face, he says, "The drool. No big."

Cas nods and finishes pushing himself off of Dean. Dean's unusually quiet, which sometimes means angry, but when Cas searches his face again he can only see that same peaceful expression. 

"Hey, Cas," Dean starts and Cas looks back up from scrubbing his hands over his face, "you're still going to tell me right? When you're ready, I mean? When you know?"

Cas still hasn't woken up completely and his brain seems to be slow to start working this morning, "Tell you what?"

Dean sighs and looks past Cas, but his face still looks fond, so Cas doesn't think he's in trouble for forgetting, "What you need. What you...want...now...that you're human. You said you'd think about it, and tell me how I could help."

Oh. He has been thinking about it. That's not the problem. The problem is that he's more and more convinced that the thing he wants most is the one thing Dean couldn't give him. "Um. Yes. I'm still thinking about it, but I'll...I'll tell you if you can help."

"Cas, man, that's, that's not how it works. We're friends. You need support. Tell me when you know and let me decide if I can help. Even if I can't help, I can, I don't know, "be there" or whatever." Dean's eyes stray back to Cas, "You don't have to do everything by yourself." 

"OK."

"Promise me you'll tell me, even if you don't want me to help...please?"

Cas' breath stutters a little at the please, knowing the effort it costs Dean, "Yes, Dean, I...I promise."

Dean's smile is breathtaking as he stands up, clasping Cas on the knee as he does, "Awesome. Let's go get some breakfast."

Cas spends the rest of the day thinking about what Dean said. He knows what he needs, or maybe it's what he wants, and he just doesn't know how to tell the difference yet. He isn't thinking about what he wants, instead he's thinking about how to tell Dean. He made him a promise. He won't break that promise, even if Dean didn't really know what he was asking, he just has to find the least damaging way to tell his best friend he's in love with him.

Cas thinks, in general, people don't give Dean enough credit. He's not afraid Dean will freak out about the fact that he's, apparently, gay, or even about the fact that Cas is in love with him. He's fairly certain he hasn't been all that subtle. But once it's out there, it's out there, and Dean will be forced to accept that he can't help Cas with this one thing. Cas knows him well enough to know that *that* is what will be the hardest part for Dean. Knowing Cas has a need he can't fulfill, worrying that he's making things worse for Cas instead of better.

When he's thought about it from every angle, he feels ready. There's no point in waiting. Everything might change, but everything is changing all the time. He thinks Dean can, with time, accept it, and things will be normal between them, but if he can't, a promise is a promise.

He finds Dean in the library with Sam. Dean is sitting in front of an open book, Sam standing behind him jabbing his finger at the book and saying, "Just look at it asshole, it's definitely an area where you could hel--" Cas clears his throat and the two look up like they've been caught sneaking cookies from the cookie jar. 

Dean looks a little sick, but Sam looks sheepish. He grabs the book out from under Dean's hands and turns away to head out of the room, "I'm, uh, researching something. I need quiet. See you guys later."

"Hey, Cas," Dean's voice is quiet.

"Hello, Dean. I'm ready."

"What?" Cas is happy to see that he seems to have startled Dean out of whatever mood was making him look so sad.

"I'm ready. To tell you what I need."

Dean looks like he's going to be sick again, but he manages a weak smile, "That's...awesome. Do you want to, um, go anywhere or, uh, just stay here?"

Cas' resolve is almost weakened by Dean's unexpected reaction, but it's too late to back out now. "I don't want to go anywhere in particular, but I would like you to drive. I'd like to tell you, um," he can feel his ears getting hot, and wills himself to calm down, "in the Impala."

His determination is rewarded by Dean's wide smile, "Sure, no problem, I'll meet you out there, ok?"

\----

Dean heads to get his keys from his room. Whatever Cas has to tell him, it will be easier in the Impala. An unaccustomed feeling of warmth spreads through him at the idea that Cas wants to share something important with him from inside the safety of the Impala. The Impala is his home as much as the bunker and he wants Cas to feel that way too.

When he gets to the car, Cas is standing near the front dragging his hand over the car's hood, apparently whispering to her. He looks up at Dean's footsteps and pulls his hands behind his back. Dean walks around to the driver's side, dragging his hand over the hood as he goes, "My baby's always good for a little encouragement. Right, girl?" He smiles up at Cas as reassuringly as he can muster.

Once they're inside the car Dean doesn't ask Cas where to go, he just starts driving. Cas said he didn't have a destination in mind, so Dean lets the car take him down the familiar roads.

Cas is quiet, but when he glances over Cas is watching him. Dean doesn't say anything, he just keeps driving until he can feel the comforting rumble of the Impala's engine draining the tension from his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Cas nod.

\---

"I'm going to tell you something now. Something that you probably don't want to hear--" Cas starts.

"Man, what'd I--"

Cas holds his hand up, "Dean, I don't want you to speak. Let me finish this. When I'm done, don't speak, please. Give yourself some time to think about it before you respond. Do you understand?"

Dean holds his gaze for a few seconds before flicking his eyes back to the road, breathing out a long breath and nodding.

"Being human has changed some things for me, but other things it has not. This thing feels like a change, how it boils inside me now is different, but in and of itself, it is not a change." Dean shifts in his seat, but stays silent, eyes on the road.

"First, I know what I'm going to tell you is a burden you'll have to bear, but you have offered me friendship and support and you've asked to know and I promised to let you provide those things for me. In the past I would have...I would have kept this from you for your own protection, but being human has taught me that I cannot...should not make those decisions for other people. You have asked for this burden and I know you are equal to carrying it."

Dean's mouth is set in a hard line, likely from the difficulty of not speaking.

"Dean, I'm in love with you." The car swerves a little and Cas pauses for a moment to gauge Dean's reaction. His eyes are wide, maybe with panic or some other emotions, he looks between Cas and the road quickly and opens his mouth to speak, but Cas hurries on, "I'm not finished. I think I've always been in love with you, even when I was an angel, but I felt things differently then. Things didn't rush to the surface or reveal themselves in sweeping gestures. I could compartmentalize, I could look at the big picture, I was free to hold myself above my emotions." Dean looks a little calmer now, though his left leg is jumping up and down and one hand is scrubbing his face.

"One day in the bunker, I just looked at you and I knew what all of those emotions meant."

"Was that--"

"Shhh, Dean, I need you to wait." Dean huffs a little, but stills.

"I didn't...I don't know what to do with these emotions, but I know they are real and that I'll never feel differently about you. I don't expect anything from you. I know you care about me, I know that. That’s enough for me. I promise. I know that you want to help, but I also know this isn't something you can do for me, regardless of how much you want me to be ok. But, I will be ok, even without your," Cas pauses and swallows thickly, "love. Your support is invaluable to me. This is part of being human, right? Unrequited love. Many people feel it. We will learn how to navigate it. Things don't have to change between us, except you will know this one secret thing about me, because I entrusted you with it, because you asked me to."

Dean's voice comes out broken, "Cas..."

"Remember what I said? Think about it first. We have all the time in the world to talk. We can be silent for a little while."

Dean turns back to the road and Cas watches him. He's surprised to see unshed tears in Dean's eyes. Of all the possible reactions, that wasn't on Cas' carefully calculated list of outcomes. 

They drive in silence a few minutes more until they approach an exit. Dean pulls off onto a back road and drives until they reach a secluded spot where he can pull the car over. He stops and turns the car off, leaving the keys in the ignition. He looks over at Cas, his expression unreadable. He steps out and shuts the door behind him. Cas sits in the car, unsure if Dean needs time to himself, but when he looks up, Dean quirks his eyebrows and Cas steps out as well. Dean stays silent, but climbs up onto the hood of the Impala, laying back and looking up at the stars. Cas stands uncertainly, anxiety setting in at Dean's wholly unexpected reaction. He can't decide if he approached it all wrong or if Dean's unnatural calm is a good sign. Dean looks over at him and smiles before looking back up at the sky and Cas guesses that's as much of an invitation as he's going to get. He climbs awkwardly onto the hood trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. After a few moments he stills and looks up into the sky. It's so different from what he used to see when he looked at the stars as an angel, but so beautiful. They lay there in comfortable silence for so long Cas starts to forget he's waiting for Dean to speak. He glances over at Dean. He's looking at Cas with a small satisfied smile on his face.

"Can I talk now?" He asks with a smirk.

Cas swallows carefully, "If you're ready."

Dean holds Cas' gaze as he says, "I don't know, I've never been great with words, too many ways to misunderstand, but I do have a response, if you're ready."

"Of course, Dean." Cas' stomach feels strange and his body seems to be having a different reaction than the stark terror happening inside his brain. 

Dean glances down Cas' body spread out over the Impala's hood and smiles widely as he leans up and moves in close to Cas, his voice rough as he says, "You don't have any idea how many times I've thought about having you here, with me, alone on the hood of my car..."

Cas closes his eyes at the words, wondering if he's actually hallucinating, so he misses Dean's movement until he feels a soft pressure on his lips. A quiet moan slips out and Dean takes that opportunity to taste the inside of his mouth. Cas' whole body reacts wildly and he grabs Dean's shoulders and pulls him close until Dean's body is on top of him, pressed heavily against him from their lips to their feet. 

Cas gets lost in the feeling of Dean against him, the sweet press of his lips and the tangle of legs against the unforgiving hood of the Impala. When Dean pulls his lips away Cas can't help the small needy noise he makes. Dean rolls his hips against him in some new, magical way and chuckles at Cas' groan as he applies his lips to Cas' neck, whispering words into Cas' skin that he can't quite understand.

Cas' hands find Dean's face, cupping his jaw and dragging his face up until he's looking in his eyes. He looks for a long time until he finds what he was looking for and tries to pull him in for a kiss.

"Cas...I..." Dean starts and pauses.

"Dean, it's ok, I know. You don't have to say it, I know." He pulls harder at Dean's face desperate to kiss the pained look off Dean's face.

"Wait, Cas, wait..." Cas stills under Dean's request, closing his eyes and trying to calm the riotous emotions that demand he take and take. Dean leans down then, softly kissing each cheek and each eyelid, before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Cas' body thrums with electricity. "Open your eyes, I'm ready."

Cas' eyes open wide as he recognizes his own words parroted back to him.

"I'm going to tell you something now. Some things changed when you became human, but some things didn't. I don't even know how long I've...felt like this, but it feels like forever. I never thought I could have this...with you, but, Cas, your love is not a burden. You are not a burden. I want this, I want...you, I have for a long time. I...I love you."

Dean holds his gaze as Cas stares up, wondering if he should have known all along about Dean's feelings, thinking about time lost, until he finally says, "Dean, will you kiss me again?"

"Sure, Cas, yeah, I can do that."

\---

When the kisses slow and they surfaced again, Dean says gently, "Cas, um, do you want…do you wanna get in the Impala?"

Cas pushes himself up onto his elbows, a worried frown replacing his blissed out expression. "You want to go home? Do you want to stop…kissing me?" 

"Who said anything about going home? I want you in the back seat of the Impala and I want…I want…" Dean raises his eyebrows expectantly, but Cas only asks, "What do you want, Dean?"

"Jesus, Cas, what do you think I want?" Dean punctuates his question with a roll of his hips.

Cas squeezes his eyes closed and Dean watches the pleasure wash over him before he answers, "I think you want to…have sex with me, but as you are the one with experience in this area, I think you should provide me with some clarification."

Dean snorts, dropping his head into the space where Cas' shoulder meets his neck, "How the hell can you use words like clarification at time like this?" He pushes himself up, looking down at Cas, fixing him with a burning gaze, pitching his voice low as he says, "How's this for some clarification, I want you and me naked in the back seat of the Impala and I want you to fuck me."

Cas' body deflates beneath him and then Cas' hands are pushing him up and off so quickly Dean almost falls off the hood. He briefly worries Cas is offended, but then he's pulling Dean off the car and toward the door while trying to simultaneously take off both his own and Dean's shirt.

Dean reaches out and grabs Cas, stopping the frantic jerking of Cas' arms and pulling him close. "Take it easy," Dean whispers in Cas' ear, "we don't have to rush it." Dean backs Cas up against the door and presses biting kisses into his neck while he works his hands under his shirt, rubbing his calloused hands across the smooth expanse of skin at Cas' waist. 

"Dean…I need…I haven't…I want…"

"Shhhh, I've got you. Do you want to fuck me Cas?"

A strangled noise bubbles up out of Cas before he's able to reply.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Yes, Dean, yes, please."

Dean puts his mouth back to good use pausing only to lift Cas' shirt up over his head. Cas' hands are at the buttons of Dean's shirt, but instead of unbuttoning, Dean feels Cas grab at each side of his shirt and pull until buttons are popping off onto the gravel and Cas is pushing the shirt off down his arms--so much for slowing him down--leaving only his t-shirt behind. Dean leans back enough to pull the shirt off himself before pressing himself firmly against Cas again. 

Dean uses his body to slide Cas down the side of the car until he can get his hand on the door to open it. Cas slips inside, legs splayed, cheeks ruddy and lips wet and swollen. Dean takes a step closer and closes his eyes, trying to block out every time he's ever had this fantasy, so he can focus on the reality in front of him. 

He moves in just enough to get his hands on Cas' pants and slide them off. Then he stands again pushing his own pants off and crawling back inside, closing the door behind him. It's a tight fit for two grown men, but it's worth it to have Cas here in the only place that's truly ever been his. 

Dean is sitting between Cas' legs. He has a spectacular view of his angel spread out in front of him. He grabs the foot closest to his waist and brings his lips to Cas' boney ankle, kissing his way up his leg. Cas is shaking by the time Dean reaches the juncture of his leg and his hip. He works his way up his hipbone, skirting around Cas' cock, which is flushed and heavy, and suddenly Dean's had enough teasing and Cas moans as Dean licks a quick stripe up his dick before taking it into his mouth. 

\----

"D--d--ean, oh, unnng, please," Cas is not sure the noises he's making are situation appropriate. He certainly doesn't sound like people in the movies he's been watching. To his ears he sounds broken and needy. That's how he's felt, since he fell, but that's not how he feels now. Now he feels lit up from the inside out. Present. Aware. But utterly unable to control his reactions. The strangest of which happens when Dean's tongue swirls in an unexpected way and Dean's name is ripped from his throat along with a sob.

Dean's mouth is suddenly terribly absent, but Dean's lips are close enough to touch. He wants to touch them and it occurs to him that he's finally allowed, but before his fingers reach out, Dean's cradling his face in his large hands, "Cas, are you ok? We can stop, I'm sorry."

"What? Why would you say that? Dean Winchester, if you stop so help me, I will, I'll…"

Cas feels Dean's thumbs rubbing gently under his eyes, "But, you're crying…"

"I…am?" Cas reaches up, pressing his fingers over and around Dean's, feeling the tears. "I don't…I'm not sad…I don't, Dean, I can't, please don't stop." He punctuates his words with a glare and by grabbing Dean's waist and pressing their bodies closer. Dean's eyes squeeze shut.

"Did I ever tell you your smiting face is kinda sexy?"

A laugh involuntarily punches it way out of Cas and his head flings back, smacking the door noisily. "Shit, Cas, are you ok?" Dean asks slipping his hand between his head and the door. Cas smiles at the worry in Dean’s voice, but mostly just wants Dean to get back to what he was doing before.

Their limbs are a confused tangle in the tight space of the backseat. "Dean," Cas begins, trying to remember how to string together coherent thoughts, "I've been thinking about this for, uh, a while, do you think we could proceed?"

"A while, huh?" Dean says with a smirk, unnecessarily dragging out the pause in their activity.

The look on Cas' face must say it all, because Dean shrugs saying, "Can you blame me? I told you your smiting face was sexy."

But then Dean's expression flips like a light switch and their interrupted exploration is very un-interrupted and Cas' composure falls apart under Dean's expertly skilled hands and his perfect lips. Cas is glad one of them knows what he's doing because while Cas understands the mechanics involved the thought of trying to focus on anything other than the myriad of sensations Dean provokes sounds too optimistic. 

Suddenly Dean is doing something that occupies his hands elsewhere than Cas' body and Cas can't help the greedy whine that escapes his lips, until he really focuses on Dean. Dean's hands are on himself. His breath stutters and his hands move to Dean's legs, holding on and digging into the thick meat of his thighs. He doesn't have an adequate angle for seeing what Dean's hands are doing, but it's ok because he can't take his eyes off Dean's face. His cheeks are flushed from their exertion, his eyes are closed, but his mouth is slightly parted. He looks impossibly more beautiful than an hour ago. 

After what seems like an eternity, Dean looks down, a hand grasping Cas' dick, stroking firmly, "Are you ready?"

Cas' mouth goes dry, but he nods. Dean shifts, lining himself up and pressing down slowly, so that Cas feels himself become engulfed by Dean. He wants, more than anything, to watch Dean, but the sudden pressure forces his eyes closed. Words are tumbling from his mouth, bypassing his brain, and he has no idea what language he's even speaking.

Dean stills and the whole world narrows to the feeling of their two bodies joined. Dean places his hands on Cas' chest before slowly easing his body up, then back down. Cas is definitely going to cry again. He feels like every inch of his body is on fire and he'll never be cool again. Dean is moving so slowly and Cas is fighting the urge to thrust, but it feels like a battle he might lose soon. 

"Dean?" 

"Yeah, babe?" Dean sounds breathless and strained, and Cas is happy to hear a mirror of his own voice.

"Can I, that is, I think I need to--" Cas' voice cuts off when Dean rocks in earnest, "--ahhhhh."

"Is that what you're looking for?" Dean asks, an unsteady smirk on his lips.

Cas doesn't know if that was permission or not, but on Dean's next roll, he pushes his hips up to meet Dean's. "Shit, Cas, yes, yes. Just like that." He does it again, "Jesus, yeah, shit." 

Cas gets lost in the press and roll of their bodies until he feels an unmistakable coil of heat. "Dean, I'm going to--" Dean steals the words, leaning down to kiss Cas breathless. Cas has just enough brainpower left to reach between them and finally get his hand on Dean's dick. His grip is awkward, but Dean moans into his neck like he's dying and Cas strokes until he feels himself pulled under, his orgasm crashing over him in waves, leaving him momentarily blind and deaf to everything but the wash of pleasure roiling through him. 

When he opens his eyes there's a hot wetness between them and Dean is watching him, a look of awe on his face. Cas reaches up and brushes a tear from under his eye, "Dean…you're…crying."

"I guess I've been thinking about this for a while too."

They both shift trying to find a way for both to be comfortable on the back seat, until Cas finally says, "I don't want to insult your car, but this isn't very comfortable."

Dean nuzzles his neck a bit before replying, "Yeah, I guess I've never really tried this with someone my size, but," Dean looks up, soft and hopeful, "it was worth it," his tongue darts out licking his lips, "right?"

Cas feels a little pain in his heart that Dean could doubt Cas' feelings on the subject. "Yes. It was worth it." He means sex in the Impala, but he also means everything, all the blood, sweat, pain, and guilt that brought them to this night. He wouldn't give up any of it, if it meant giving up this moment. He does his best to put all of that meaning into his words, but in case Dean isn't grasping the full enormity of his meaning he grabs Dean's face in his hands and pulls him in for a searing kiss.

When he lets Dean go, the doubt is gone from Dean's eyes, "Ok, Cas, ok. Let's go. It's time to face the music."

Cas squints and looks at Dean carefully, "Is there a reason there will be music at the bunker?"

"No, man, Sam. Sam is the music and we have to face him. I have a feeling we might owe him an apology."

Cas thinks about the last month at the bunker, quickly reviewing his behavior, Dean's and, finally, Sam's. "I think you might be correct."

The laugh that erupts from Dean is contagious and soon they’re both laughing and shaking so hard the car is rocking. Dean calms first, "Let's get cleaned up and go home."

"Home," Cas repeats and tastes the word, surprised to find it feels different now, more real, more permanent, "I'd like that."

**Author's Note:**

> Big "thank yous" to Illbetracy, sleepsintheimpala & frecklesarechocolate for helping me push through this story, which was surprisingly difficult to finish.


End file.
